


Take It to the Limit

by Delphi



Category: Reservoir Dogs (1992)
Genre: Drama, M/M, Punishment, Self-Destruction, Shame, Unsafe Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-26
Updated: 2013-10-26
Packaged: 2017-12-30 13:22:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1019106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delphi/pseuds/Delphi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Freddy knows how this has to go down. White hasn't gotten the memo.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take It to the Limit

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2013 round of Kink Bingo on DW. Kink: Penance/Punishment.

So Freddy figures that if he's going to fuck up his life, he might as well do it right. His place, _his apartment_ , White smirking at his posters. His bed, his dirty sheets, his own sleep-funk smell on the pillow as he's pushed down onto his stomach. No, no, they don't need a condom. It's cool. It's fine. He's got one in his wallet, and he can hear White kind of pause when he sees the two in the night stand, right there beside Freddy's jerk-off lube. 

"You sure?" White asks. His hand's on Freddy's ass, squeezing. He's got great hands, great arms. He's got prison ink, the kind that's paid for in cigarettes and probably came with a side of hepatitis. 

Freddy licks his lips. They're all bruised up from frantic kissing in the car. He bit them, slouched in the passenger seat, his dick hard and his fingers digging into his knees as White drove ten over the speed limit. 

"Yeah," he says, resting his cheek on his arm and looking up at White, feverish and dizzy and falling in love like he's been pushed off a cliff holding an anvil.

Why don't they just skip the lube? He doesn't say it, because he knows the difference between crazy and stupid, but he wants to anyway. Spit, just enough to make it work, like when he was seventeen and fingering himself for the first time and thinking maybe he wasn't a fag after all. It should hurt, like banging his head against the wall in the stairwell, White's hands in his hair—like barking his knee on the door jamb as he dragged White inside, his keys dropping to the floor as they ripped each other's clothes off.

There's no stopping now. That's out the door, that's...that's in a whole other state. He's going to blow the case. He's going to lose his job and throw his whole life in the dumpster, and all he can do is roll the pillow under him, knees bracing as White's slick fingers push into his ass. Jesus, he's going to come before White even gets his dick in him.

He reaches back, blindly groping. His fingertips graze White's hip, trying to hook in and pull him closer. It's got to be now, and it's got to be rough, and maybe he should have just unzipped in the car and let White fuck him in the backseat like a cheap hustler, rocking that big old Lincoln and steaming up the windows.

"Come on," he says, his throat clenching around his voice. "Come on, you asshole. Just fucking _do_ it."

"Hey," White says, kind of laughing, like it's nothing. His breath tickles Freddy's shoulder as he gets on top of him, his warm weight pinning Freddy down. "Hold your horses."

Freddy moans and shivers, his eyes screwing shut as the words rumble against his ribcage. White's mouth touches the back of his neck, hot and brief, hardly even biting.

"We've got time."


End file.
